


Unmixed Messages

by misura



Category: The Imitation Game (2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4392419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Something cannot be true and not true at the same time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unmixed Messages

"I, I don't - " Alan starts, in between Hugh getting his shirt and pants off, and Hugh manages (barely) not to think that of all the times for Alan to want to talk, this is the absolutely worst one he could possibly have chosen - which probably means Hugh should have expected it. "With women."

Hugh considers ignoring it. It's not relevant to the current situation. "I do." On the other hand, it might become relevant tomorrow, or the day after that.

"That, that must be convenient," Alan says. He goes running regularly; there's muscle hiding under those clothes of his. Skin and bone, too, and not much fat.

_Convenient._ Hugh wants to laugh. Doesn't, because he can't quite calculate the odds of Alan taking that the wrong way. "Yes. And no."

"Something cannot be true and, and not true at the same time," Alan says.

Hugh wants to tell him to shut up. Kisses him instead, the way he's kissed that lovely brunette from hut six last week, the way he might kiss that delicious blonde from hut seven next month.

"As far as arguments to convince me that I am wrong that was a rather feeble one."

"I believe the message I was trying to convey was that we can either talk or do what we came here to do," Hugh says. Privacy is a rare commodity, in a place like Bletchley.

It's not that everybody thinks everybody else might be a spy (Russian or German); it's that there are, quite simply, a lot of people occupying what is really rather a small amount of space.

"Then you encoded it rather poorly."

"Perhaps you should just work at your cryptography skills a bit more." A beat. "That was a joke, by the way. In case you hadn't realized."

Alan kisses him, and Hugh wonders if Alan, too, has clamped down on a desire to tell him _shut up now, please_ instead, possibly without the _please_ , given that this is, after all, Alan.

"I would prefer to do," Alan says. "In case you did not get that message."


End file.
